


The Book inside the Mirror, or, A Prologue to Jonathan Strange ♥ Mr Norrell, from Three Viewpoints

by Nefertiti_22002



Series: Jonathan Strange ♥ Mr Norrell sequels [5]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: Jonathan and Arabella Strange agree that Jonathan should apply to Mr Norrell for help in becoming a magician. The second meeting between the two, in which Jonathan successfully performs a magic spell with a book and a mirror, changes all their lives. Told three times, from the points of view of Arabella, Jonathan and Gilbert.





	The Book inside the Mirror, or, A Prologue to Jonathan Strange ♥ Mr Norrell, from Three Viewpoints

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ivelostmyspectacles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/gifts).



**Arabella’s views on the matter**  


_July 1809_

From almost the very moment when Jonathan returned from his expedition to the Shadow House to conjure up the shade of Maria Absalom and suggested that he might try and visit Mr Norrell, Arabella thoroughly approved of the idea.

As Jonathan began his account, he was in a great state of excitement, pacing as he told her of his success in conjuring the long-dead lady magician in a dream. Arabella had to admit to herself that she had remained somewhat dubious that Jonathan could make a success for himself from his interest in magic. This achievement seemed to suggest that he indeed could. She clapped her hands together and smiled in delight.

“Congratulations, my dearest Jonathan! That must have been a tremendous feat of magic, I suppose. You are progressing greatly.”

Jonathan paused and his enthusiastic smile faded somewhat. “Indeed it began astonishingly well. I had no great hopes when I went there that I should succeed so easily. But what happened next astonished me even more, and not in a pleasant way. A young man appeared in my dream. He was dreaming it as well, you see.”

Arabella did not see, and her smile faded as well, but she simply nodded and awaited an explanation.

“His appearance caused Miss Absalom to disappear, so I was never able to greet her, let alone ask her any questions about ancient magic. Moreover, I doubt that she will ever respond to a further summons from me, given how startled she was by the presence of an unexpected man on the scene.”

Arabella gasped and said, “Oh, dear, what a terrible shame!” She thought for a moment. “Could you possibly use the same spell to conjure a different dead magician?”

Her husband stopped pacing and waved his arm dismissively. “Perhaps, but as a result of meeting this young man, Mr Segundus and his friend Mr Honeyfoot, I have a new possibility for proceeding in mind.”

“Who are they, Jonathan?”

He sat down opposite her, leaning forward and speaking enthusiastically once more. He told of the young aspiring magician and the older former magician and how Mr Norrell had forced the latter to give up his pursuit of magic, even as a hobby. The younger man had been able to resist such a demand but still was finding it difficult to learn much about the subject so dear to his heart. Their problems had won over Jonathan’s sympathies, and he now considered them friends.

Arabella pressed her lips together in disapproval. “Mr Norrell! What a dreadful man he must be! It’s bad enough that he has been preventing you and others from buying books of magic. Has he also really been forcing people who want to be magicians to give such an ambition up?”

“I learned today that that is exactly what he has been doing.” He paused and said somewhat reluctantly, “We must remember that he has done great things for our country. Saved many lives, given the British forces enormous advantages. You remember his tremendous rain-ship illusions, I suppose, and all the benefits that they provided the British navy. He must have some good in him, though I must admit that I have always thought of Norrell mainly as an obstacle to my progress in learning this new profession of mine. But Mr Honeyfoot suggested that instead of trying to gain a dead magician as a mentor, I might apply instead to Mr Norrell for help. That was how the great Aureates learned their art, by apprenticing with an established magician. Mr Honeyfoot was quite keen on his notion. He kept saying, ‘Strange and Norrell,’ as if we would become magical partners rather on the model of a law firm.” He chuckled.

Arabella considered for a moment. “But putting aside Mr Norrell’s contributions to the war efforts, you seem to think nothing but ill of the man.” Indeed, she had often listened to her husband’s denunciations of Mr Norrell when he returned from a book-buying expedition empty-handed. Even on those rare occasions when he was able to purchase a book of magic, he would bring up the other magician, crowing “Here’s one that the old miser won’t get his hands on!” though he would then like as not lapse into gloom and add, “Though I suppose that the fact he hasn’t bought it yet must mean that it’s a fairly minor work.” And he would sigh.

Now Strange hesitated and then looked at her with the hint of a smile. “Yes, I must say that at first I found Mr Honeyfoot’s idea quite impossible. Gradually, though, he convinced me that the suggestion was not so absurd after all. What if I were to be so fortunate as to impress Mr Norrell? Mr Honeyfoot thought that I, as a somewhat experienced practical—and genuine—magician, might seem to Mr Norrell different from the other aspiring magicians he has suppressed. I am not as convinced of that as Mr Honeyfoot is, but just imagine, if Mr Norrell accepts me as a pupil, I would have access not only to his learning but also to his library, which the two gentlemen assure me is a tremendous one!” He paused and said with a tentative smile, “ʽStrange and Norrell.’ I have to admit that I think it could be a splendid partnership. It would take great good luck to manage it, but …” He trailed off, staring abstractedly at the carpet.

Arabella had also begun to smile during all this, partly at Jonathan’s renewed enthusiasm and partly because she could not imagine that any one could resist her husband once he had met him. He was so charming, so witty and already so good at magic, despite a lack of help or resources. Surely even the dreadful Mr Norrell would be won over by him.

“You’re right, my dear. It would be worth a try. If you could gain Mr Norrell’s support, you would be in a perfect position to learn all you need to know in order to become a great magician—as great as Mr Norrell—perhaps greater!”

They rose and embraced each other. 

Jonathan pulled back to look into her face. “Greater than Norrell! Let us not be too ambitious. I should be happy to learn even half of what he knows!”

“Well, all right, not greater. Still, I know you can become a very fine magician if given a chance, and the papers are full of stories about how busy Mr Norrell is, receiving more requests from the government than he can possibly deal with. I should think he would be glad of the prospect of help.”

“Well, I hope so. All right, then, it’s settled. We shall go to London! I need to do some work here, of course, making sure that the arrangements for the harvests on the estate are made and the rents collected, but let us plan for September.”

“But how will you contact Mr Norrell and arrange a meeting? Will you write directly to him?”

Jonathan was silent for a while, sunk in thought. “I believe not. Obviously he is not happy with the idea of there being other magicians. I have heard that he is guarded by a chap who deals with all his correspondence and quite possibly throws away any letters from any one aspiring to gain Mr Norrell’s support. No, I think that it would be better to go through some of my friends and contacts in London. I have been in the City a few times myself, and I know other people from my visits to Bath and Brighton. They might move in the same social circles and be able to put in a good word for me. Again, judging from the newspapers, Mr Norrell dines at the finest households nearly every evening. At least some of these friends of mine might be able to talk with him on such occasions.”

Arabella looked at him doubtfully. “Well, if you think that will work, let us trust to your friends to help us. Oh, I do look forward to seeing London again! I only went there once, as I think I have mentioned to you. I was a little girl, and my parents did not have the money to buy me much in all the wonderful shops that we passed by. But now that I have a wealthy husband, I hope to do acquire some fashionable clothes.” She laughed merrily.

Jonathan grinned ruefully. “ʻWealthy’ may be too grand a word. ‘Well-off,’ perhaps. But I should be delighted to have you buy some lovely dresses and enjoy yourself at several dinners and parties in the city. You will be the prettiest one at any event we attend!”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

_September 1809_

Jonathan and Arabella travelled to London early in the month. They stayed in a hotel—not one of the grandest ones, but a very nice one nonetheless. Through Jonathan’s friends, they were able to attend many parties, where they heard much news of Mr Norrell. Arabella spent her days exploring the shops of the capitol and cautiously ordered several new dresses and some matching accessories. She knew that Jonathan was asking his friends to somehow arrange for Mr Norrell to send him an invitation to visit. 

They waited for a more than a week and had almost given up hope when an invitation from Mr Norrell was sent up from the hotel’s desk. It asked Mr Strange to call upon Mr Norrell in Hanover-square the next day.

Jonathan was overjoyed, and yet Arabella sensed that he was also very worried about how Mr Norrell would receive him. Such worry was not unreasonable, but she did her best to reassure Jonathan about the coming meeting, even though she was a little more nervous than she had been while in Shropshire. Nevertheless, she still could not fathom how any one could dislike her Jonathan.

Finally the day of the momentous meeting arrived, and Arabella accompanied Jonathan to Mr Norrell’s house. When they met the great magician, he was far less impressive than she had imagined. She had pictured him as tall, stern and elderly. Instead he was short, shy and perhaps in his late forties. Moreover, she was shocked to recognize him as the “enemy” who had appeared in the mirror when Jonathan had cast his first spell back in February at the Redmonds’ house—the one she had remarked looked like a banker. She knew that Mr Norrell was Jonathan’s enemy in that he had blocked all other magicians from buying books. Might he be Jonathan’s enemy in a more general sense, adamant about blocking him from pursuing his new career? She found herself even less sanguine about Jonathan’s hopes of winning Mr Norrell’s support. 

Upon witnessing the first conversation between the two magicians, however, she had to admit to herself that it was not going well. Mr Norrell was most disapproving of Jonathan’s admittedly rather casual attitude toward his writing of an article for _The Gentleman’s Magazine_. Mr Norrell avoided admitting that he had bought up books concerning magic in order to prevent other magicians—such as Jonathan—from being able to obtain them. Most notably, the two broke into a quarrel over some fellow known as the Raven King, whom Jonathan seemed to favour and Mr Norrell did not. It was clear that a great disparity of views and temperament existed between the two magicians, and Arabella sighed, thinking that there was no reason for them to continue any longer in the same room to irritate each other more. Shortly afterward she made an excuse for Jonathan and herself to leave.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Over the next few nights, the Stranges attended dinner parties where the subject of Mr Norrell naturally came up. Jonathan belittled the famous magician repeatedly. Arabella could not help but feel that his criticism of Mr Norrell was justified to a considerable extent. After all, he had ultimately failed to be charmed and impressed by Jonathan, which surely testified to a serious flaw in his character. 

At one meal, however, Jonathan declared, “He does not like me. Nor I him.”

By this point Arabella had grown tired of repeatedly listening to this blanket condemnation of Mr Norrell, and she burst out, somewhat more optimistically than she actually felt, “Not like you! No, perhaps he did not _like_ you. But he did not so much as look at any other person the whole time we were there. It was as if he would eat you up with his eyes. I dare say he is lonely. He has studied all these years and never had any body he could explain his mind to. Certainly not to those disagreeable men—I forget their names. But now that he had seen you—and he knows that he could talk to you—well! it would be very odd if he did not invite you again.”

It was a speech that she would look back on many times over the years of her marriage to Jonathan and beyond. Really, she had not been nearly as hopeful as her words would suggest, but she had wanted to encourage Jonathan—and also to stop his complaining. Yet what she had said turned out to be all too true. 

Four days after their visit to Mr Norrell, a second invitation arrived, asking Jonathan to return to Hanover-square the next afternoon.

Jonathan stood staring at this missive in astonishment. “Why in the world does he want me back, given the way he treated me upon our first meeting?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps people whose opinion he respects have been speaking well of you to him. After all, we have discussed him at several dinner parties now. I should not be surprised if at parties he attended you were a subject of conversation.”

“Mmmm. Possibly. Well, I suppose a second meeting can go no worse and might go better. Perhaps we caught him in a bad mood.”

Arabella decided not to accompany Jonathan to his second visit to Mr Norrell. The great magician had looked almost annoyed to see her when she arrived alongside Jonathan for his first visit, and he had proceeded virtually to ignore her throughout the conversation. She had no desire to subject herself to that sort of treatment again. Besides, if Jonathan got to quarreling with Mr Norrell again, she did not wish to witness his final rejection.

When he returned, however, he wore a grin of delight and triumph. Arabella exulted when he described how his magical trick of exchanging a reflection of a book in a mirror with the actual book itself. Arabella did not see that there was much use in doing such a thing, but Mr Norrell had been extremely impressed and had invited Jonathan to return yet again the next morning.

“He told me that he wished to speak to me in private, without Mr Lascelles or Mr Drawlight being present.”

“Wonderful! I don’t like those two, and the conversation is likely to go much more smoothly without them interfering. Do you suppose Mr Norrell wants to offer to become your teacher?”

Jonathan hesitated. “I think we should not raise our hopes too high … but it does seem far and away the most likely purpose for such a private meeting.”

Indeed, the next day Mr Norrell asked Jonathan to become his pupil. That evening Arabella and her husband went out to celebrate at a very fine restaurant. They exuberantly made plans to buy a house in London and move there so that Jonathan could pursue his studies. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

**Jonathan’s views on the matter**  


Upon Jonathan’s return from the Shadow House and his momentous meeting with Mr Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot, he was not overly surprised that Arabella encouraged him in his plan to try and meet with Mr Norrell. After all, she was the one who had urged him to find a calling in life. When he had succeeded at casting his first spell at the Redmonds’ house, she had been taken aback but had graciously accepted the fact that he seemed to have some talent for magic.

In the months that followed that first spell, Arabella had continued to encourage him. She often expressed delight that he had at last found something that he was genuinely passionate about. His growing pleasure at the small strides that he was able to make seemed to give her joy as well. Now, they agreed, they should go to London so that Jonathan could try to meet the Greatest Magician of the Age. Jonathan felt no little lingering degree of resentment against the man for sweeping up all the significant books on English magic, but charming Mr Norrell seemed to be the most logical solution to that problem.

Logical, that is, if Mr Norrell turned out to be an even half-way gracious or polite man. Jonathan's first visit to the great magician, however, turned out disastrously. Initially, when Mr Norrell professed astonishment that Jonathan had not yet started writing an article that was due the Friday after next, Jonathan had taken it as a badly expressed compliment. But then he mentioned that he might try refuting Lord Portishead’s recent essay arguing that the modern magician had no business dealing with fairies. He referred to this as mere nonsense, and it turned out that the article had been encouraged and approved by Mr Norrell.

To top it all off, Mr Norrell urged Jonathan to study magic from books but made no effort whatsoever to offer access to the many marvelous books which were no doubt hidden away in a library not far from the sitting-room in which this by-now tense conversation was taking place. He saw that Arabella was looking worried—as well she might be.

Mr Lascelles broke the awkward silence by remarking in a bored tone, “It must have been a very curious circumstance that made you chuse to be a magician.”

“It was. Most curious.”

“Will you not tell us what that circumstance was?”

By this point Jonathan had given up all but the slimmest hope of impressing the unforthcoming Mr Norrell, so he smiled maliciously and said, “I am sure that it will give Mr Norrell great pleasure to know that he was the cause of my becoming a magician. One might say in fact that Mr Norrell made me a magician.”

As he expected, Mr Norrell replied “I?” with a horror that he made no attempt to hide.

Arabella seemed to be under the illusion that the situation could still be saved, for she chimed in, “The truth is, sir, that he had tried everything else—farming, poetry, iron-founding. In the course of a year he ran through a whole variety of occupations without settling to any of them. He was bound to come to magic sooner or later.”

This unwelcome contribution led to an even longer awkward silence. Finally Jonathan, convinced that he had lost any chance to impress Mr Norrell, tried to satisfy his own curiosity by asking the magician why he was so opposed to dealings with Fairies and to any mention of the Raven King. Mr Norrell responded with a speech that attacked and dismissed the Raven King vehemently and in no uncertain terms. 

Almost immediately Arabella began making subtle little gestures at him and finally suggested that Jonathan and she had another appointment elsewhere. Both were quite relieved when they were outside the house and safely departing down the street in their carriage.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Over the next few days Jonathan fumed inwardly over his failure with Mr Norrell. He was torn between wanting to avoid all mention of Mr Norrell and being unable to refrain from denouncing him to Arabella and any one who would listen. On the first night over dinner his friends were all too eager to hear his opinion of the great Mr Norrell, so he had considerable opportunity to unburden himself of his annoyance. They all nodded and made jokes about Mr Norrell’s strange denial of the importance of the Raven King, but they clearly understood little about the great disparity between the two magicians’ opinions concerning that gentleman.

The next day morning over breakfast, Jonathan said to Arabella, “We can go back to Shropshire any time you please. I do not think that there is any thing to keep us in London.”

“Oh, surely we should stay a little longer, after having come such a distance. Mrs Atherton has invited us to go out by boat to Greenwich on Saturday if the weather holds. And one of the dresses I bought is being altered and will not be ready until the day after tomorrow.”

Jonathan nodded resignedly. “As you like, Bell. But from this point on I am resolved to think no more about Mr Norrell. He is the most maddening, unhelpful, unsympathetic man I have ever met. He …”

And he immediately broke his resolution by going on at some length, not only then but over the next few days, with poor Arabella forced to listen to a long recital of Mr Norrell’s professional and personal faults. He realized he was repeating himself and boring her, but his annoyance would keep bursting forth.

++++++++++++++++++++

Just as Jonathan and Arabella were concluding their social obligations in London and were beginning to think that they had visited its most attractive and interesting sites, they returned one afternoon to their hotel and found another invitation bidding Jonathan to visit Mr Norrell the following day.

Jonathan read it through and stood staring at the missive in astonishment. Arabella walked over to him and took the letter, perusing it and glancing up to see what her husband’s response to such an unexpected invitation would be.

“Will you go, Jonathan?”

He frowned. “Why in the world does he want me back, given the way he treated me upon our first meeting?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps people whose opinion he respects have been speaking well of you to him. After all, we have discussed him at several dinner parties now. I should not be surprised if at parties he attended you were a subject of conversation.”

“Mmmm. Possibly. Well, I suppose a second meeting can go no worse and might go better. Perhaps we caught him in a bad mood.”

“Well, I hope that proves true. Nonetheless, I shan’t accompany you. The Great Man looked almost annoyed to see me arriving alongside you on the first visit. He virtually ignored me throughout the conversation, and when I spoke he looked at me very sternly! I have no desire to subject myself to that sort of treatment again. Besides, if you get to quarreling with Mr Norrell again, as seems quite possible, I do not wish to witness your final rejection. I shall wait here in case I need to provide solace.”

Jonathan sighed. “That does seem quite possible. Why should I put myself in that position again? I am inclined to reply that we are on the verge of leaving London and I have no time, but … well, the tone of his missive is surprisingly conciliatory. I suppose I must give him another chance.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++

When he arrived at Mr Norrell’s house, he was shown in, not to the sitting-room again, but to the library. He supposed that was a good sign, and that the other magician was being more forthcoming. Still, the sight of the walls covered with shelves full of books made his resentment against Mr Norrell flare up again. He stifled any remarks he could have made.

He noted that Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight were present, which did nothing to make him more comfortable.

To his amazement, Mr Norrell began by actually giving him a book, Jeremy Tott’s _English Magic._ He had never heard of it. Mr Norrell explained that it was a biography of a minor English magician and that its author had much to say about diligent research and the dangers of committing one’s ideas to print too hastily.

Jonathan sighed but bowed slightly. “I’m sure I shall find it most interesting, sir.” Interesting as evidence of how little Mr Norrell respected his talents, he suspected. He feared that this meeting with the Greatest Magician of the Age would go no better than the first one.

Nevertheless, Mr Norrell gazed at Strange with an odd expression upon his face. Jonathan suspected that he wanted to begin a conversation, which would be welcome, but the man remained silent. The situation became increasingly awkward. He tried to think of something to say himself, but given that he had no idea why the man had summoned him a second time, he felt that it was up to Mr Norrell to explain.

Finally Mr Lascelles spoke. “Sir, may I remind you that Lord Mulgrave … of the Admiralty, you know,” he added in an aside to Jonathan before turning back to Mr Norrell, “… is expected within the hour.”

Jonathan felt relieved at this interruption. Clearly he was not going to fare much better with Mr Norrell during this visit than he had on the previous one, though apparently they were not going to quarrel over Fairy servants or any such subject again. He said, “You have business to conduct, sir. I must not intrude. I have business for Mrs Strange in Bond-street that must not be neglected.” In fact, he had done Arabella’s errand there on the previous afternoon, and she had made him promise to come straight home after leaving Hanover-square and to tell her the outcome of the second meeting. By now, however, he was eager to avoid a lengthy and fruitless visit with Mr Norrell, and so he gave an excuse that would help to bring it to an end.

Mr Norrell looked a trifle startled and disappointed at Mr Lascelles' intervention, as if he had hoped that at some point soon he might think of something to say to Jonathan. 

If he did intend such a thing, he had no chance to utter a word before Mr Drawlight chimed in, “And perhaps one day we shall have the honour of seeing a piece of magic worked by Mr Strange. I am excessively fond of seeing magic done.”

“Perhaps,” Jonathan said politely, though he had no desire whatsoever to oblige the foppish fellow.

Mr Lascelles smiled, almost triumphantly, as he moved to ring the bell to summon a servant. It dawned on Jonathan that the man was jealously guarding Mr Norrell against any one else gaining influence over him. “Well, let him keep what little power he has,” Jonathan thought. “I do not envy him the patronage of such a disagreeable, secretive fellow, however great his services to the nation and his skill in magic.”

Suddenly Mr Norrell said in a rather shriller and louder tone than he had previously used, “I should be glad to see some of Mr Strange’s magic now … if he would honour us with a demonstration.”

“Oh! But I do not …” Jonathan was startled at the request and could not fathom why Mr Norrell had made it. If he wanted to see whether Jonathan could actually do magic, why had he not asked already? 

“It would do me great honour,” Mr Norrell replied, though he looked neither encouraging nor happy. Rather he appeared somewhat nervous and dejected.

Jonathan still hesitated. He had not expected such a request and had made no plans to perform magic, but he could hardly refuse without seeming impolite. He relented and said, “Very well. I shall be very glad to shew you something. It will be a little awkward, perhaps, compared to what you are accustomed to. I very much doubt, Mr Norrell, that I can match you in elegance of execution.”

Mr Norrell bowed his head in acknowledgement of the compliment.

Jonathan surveyed the room for a while, seeking inspiration for a feat of magic. His glance fell upon the unwanted copy of _English Magic_ in his hand, and an idea occurred to him. He looked around and spied a large mirror in a dark corner of the room. Glancing with a little smile at Mr Norrell, he moved to the table in front of the mirror, placed Tott’s slim volume on it so that its reflection was quite visible and stood back from it slightly.

The other three men had followed him. Mr Norrell stood a few feet to his right, and Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascalles positioned themselves to watch from near the corner of the table. Jonathan ran his hands through his hair, clasped the back of his neck and stretched his shoulders. He craned his neck slightly to make sure that the magic had worked, and turned to Mr Norrell with a tentative smile.

Inwardly he felt quite worried, despite the success of his spell. If Mr Norrell wanted no other magicians to exist, might he react badly to it? Or might he dismiss the spell as a minor trick, not worthy of a real magician? He noticed that Mr Drawlight was looking quite disappointed and Mr Lascelles wore a sneering smile.

Mr Norrell, however, was staring at the book in wonder and cried out, “But that is remarkable! That is truly …” He turned and beamed at Jonathan, so impressed that he seemed briefly at a loss for words. “My dear Mr Strange! I never even heard of such magic before! It is not listed in Sutton-Grove. I assure you, my dear sir, it is not in Sutton-Grove!”

Jonathan was vastly relieved and began to smile more broadly himself. He was a trifle confused by Mr Norrell’s words, since at that time he had not heard of Sutton-Grove—presumably one of Mr Norrell’s rare, hoarded volumes. But Mr Norrell was so obviously impressed and delighted that Jonathan felt a rush of joy, and soon the two were grinning at each other as if unexpectedly meeting an old and dear friend.

Dimly Jonathan was aware that Mr Lascelles had stepped forward and was leaning over to examine the book. “It is a little longer than it was perhaps,” he said uncertainly.

“I do not think so,” said Mr Drawlight.

“It is tan leather now. Was it blue before?”

“No, it was always tan.”

Mr Norrell roused himself from his ecstatic contemplation of Jonathan, turned to look at the other two and laughed. “No, no, gentlemen! You have not guessed it! Indeed you have not!” He turned back to Jonathan. “Oh! Mr Strange, I cannot tell how much … but they do not understand what it is you have done! Pick it up! Pick it up, Mr Lascelles!”

He glanced back at Jonathan with a conspiratorial smile, and Jonathan returned it. Then they both looked on in amusement as Mr Lascelles tried to pick up the book and found his fingers grasping nothing.

Mr Norrell sighed with happiness. “He has made the book and its reflection change places. The real book is over there, in the mirror.” He stepped forward to examine the book and its reflection more closely.

Jonathan followed and stood beside him.

“But how did you do it?” asked Mr Norrell eagerly.

“How indeed?” Jonathan murmured, clearing his throat. He moved about, studying the book behind the mirror. He hoped he was not about to lose Mr Norrell’s good opinion after having so dramatically gained it.

Mr Drawlight interjected, “Can you get it back?”

Jonathan hesitated. “Sadly, no. To own the truth, I have only the haziest notion of what I did. I dare say it is just the same with you, sir, one has a sensation like music playing at the back of one’s head—one simply knows what the next note will be.”

Mr Norrell looked puzzled but no less delighted. “Quite remarkable!” he said.

They talked further for a time, ignoring Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles, who hovered about looking increasingly worried.

At last Mr Lascelles broke in and reminded Mr Norrell that Lord Mulgrave was due in about five minutes.

“Oh,” Mr Norrell said unenthusiastically. “Oh, yes. I’m afraid we must end this agreeable conversation. No, Mr Lascelles, don’t bother to ring. I shall show Mr Strange out myself. I shall rejoin you in a minute or two,” he added firmly, as Mr Lascelles showed signs of wanting to share in that duty. No doubt he wanted to hear every word that passed between the two magicians.

Mr Norrell took Jonathan’s arm and led him out and down to the entry hallway. Jonathan’s coat, hat and walking stick had been carefully arranged on a chair, and as he took them up, Mr Norrell said, “Oh, Mr Strange, this has been an enormous revelation for me! I must confess that I thought you were probably a fraud, but to see such clever and original magic was an enormous delight!”

“I am so glad to have impressed you, sir.”

Mr Norrell nodded happily. “Now you must come back at a time—as soon as possible, of course—when we can talk at greater length. Tomorrow morning I have no appointments. Can you come again then? Wonderful!” He glanced up the stairs toward the library and went on more quietly, “Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles will not be here, and we can talk more openly and without having to explain anything to them. After all, you and I are, to the best of my knowledge, the only two practical magicians in England. I think we already understand each other quite well.”

“I would be proud to think so, sir. Yes, of course, I should be more than happy to return tomorrow morning!”

“Splendid! Shall we say nine o’clock, then?”

And so it was agreed. Jonathan went out to his carriage feeling that a great weight had been lifted from him. Against all his assumptions, he had gained Mr Norrell’s favour in a most unexpected way. His future suddenly looked as bright as ever he could have hoped. Nine o’clock seemed a very long time to wait until he saw the other Magician again. He could not wait to return home and inform Arabella. 

She had probably been right, he reflected, in opining that Mr Norrell was lonely. The man had changed so dramatically when he did the trick with the book and mirror. Where he had been sour and suspicious, he was cheerful and forthcoming. Surely now Jonathan would be able to read as many of the books in that splendid library as he wished, and he would become friends with a great magician who could answer all his questions. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

**Gilbert’s views on the matter**  


Gilbert felt even more anxious before Mr Strange’s second visit than he had before the first. Initially he had assumed that the other “magician” was a mere fraud or a theoretical magician claiming to be a practical one. His discovery that Mr Strange was carelessly writing articles only a short time before their deadlines and was a proponent of Fairy servants and of the Raven King had meant that he was probably a dilettante, someone whose ideas no one was likely to favour over his own. He decided that he could ignore Mr Strange. Let him fall by the wayside of public opinion. Not that he actually stopped worrying about Mr Strange, but he tried to.

The conversations about Mr Strange at a number of dinner parties he attended over the next few days changed his mind. He realized that Mr Strange had made an impression upon people in high social circles. People asked his opinion of Mr Strange, and he was able to answer in only the vaguest of terms. He began to wonder whether he should not try to guide this new magician in some fashion, to discourage him from casual publication and reckless ideas. After all, if the high government officials that he dealt with came to hear of Mr Strange—and surely they must, if the gossip about the young man was so widespread—they would insist upon using his talents to do further magic against the French. 

Gilbert questioned Mr Drawlight about how the public viewed Mr Strange, what they said about him, whom he visited. He and Mr Lascelles repeatedly assured Mr Norrell that Mr Strange was not worth bothering with and that the public was hardly going to be swayed from Gilbert’s opinions on magic by some young upstart from Shropshire.

Their claims did little to reassure Gilbert. He announced to the astonished pair that he had decided to help Mr Strange by presenting him with a book. It was a book that, in Gilbert’s opinion, would discourage Mr Strange from recklessly publishing articles without sufficient research and consideration.

“I intend to invite Mr Strange to visit me again, at which time I shall give him the book. I hope to be able to sound him out further about his beliefs concerning magic and perhaps to give him some advice that will divert him into a more sensible way of going about his studies and indeed his intended career.”

Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles did not look at all pleased at this plan, but they clearly could not dissuade Gilbert from it. He sat down and wrote out the invitation to Mr Strange, handing it to Davey to be delivered at the hotel where Mr Strange was staying, Childermass being out of town on a book-buying mission. Gilbert hoped that Mrs Strange would not accompany her husband again.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Gilbert was so nervous concerning the second meeting that he had a headache by the time that Mr Strange arrived. He had decided to have this meeting in the library, though he began to regret that as soon as Mr Strange entered the room. He watched in some trepidation as Mr Strange stared in wonder at the ranks of books on magic. To his relief, Mr Strange pressed his lips together and said nothing on the subject.

Gilbert presented the book, Jeremy Tott’s _English Magic,_ a biography of his magician brother Horace, to Mr Strange, who had never heard of it.

“Well, it, um, has some sagacious things to say about the need for diligent research, Mr Strange. As Mr Jeremy Tott says, one should beware of committing oneself to paper too soon. It is a valuable lesson, and one which I have borne in mind constantly.”

Mr Strange smiled and said he was sure that it would prove most interesting. Gilbert smiled in return and hesitated. To his surprise, he suddenly felt that he should enjoy talking with Mr Strange about magic, but he could not think of anything to say that would start such a conversation. It occurred to him that he wished Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles were not in the room. They seemed not to like Mr Strange, and they certainly would not be able to follow any such conversation on the subject of magic.

As he feared, Mr Lascelles spoke to him. “Sir, may I remind you that Lord Mulgrave … of the Admiralty, you know,” he said in an aside to Mr Strange, “… is expected within the hour.”

Mr Strange took the hint and made an excuse to leave, but Mr Drawlight seemed disappointed and said wistfully, “And perhaps one day we shall have the honour of seeing a piece of magic worked by Mr Strange. I am excessively fond of seeing magic done.”

Mr Strange replied politely but unenthusiastically, “Perhaps.”

Mr Lascelles moved to ring for a servant, but Gilbert did not want Mr Strange to leave just yet. He desperately wanted to know if Mr Strange was a genuine practical magician. Indeed, that was the basic reason he had invited the young man to return. Yet Mr Lascelles was trying to thwart him in that goal. He felt a tiny flair of resentment and said as firmly as he could manage, “I should be glad to see some of Mr Strange’s magic now—if he would honour us with a demonstration.”

Mr Strange looked most surprised at this and demurred, but Gilbert persisted: “It would do me great honour.”

Mr Strange could hardly refuse after that, and he began looking around the room, apparently seeking something that he could use in the performance of a spell. Gilbert desperately hoped that Mr Strange would give up his charade and confess that he actually could not cast spells and was merely a theoretical magician after all. He watched in horror as Mr Strange moved to a mirror in a corner of the room, carrying the copy of Jeremy Tott’s book.

Gilbert moved closer in order to watch him intently. Mr Drawlight moved forward as well, looking eager to see a trick performed, and Mr Lascelles followed, wearing his usual skeptical and bored expression.

Mr Strange suddenly made some odd gestures, running his hands through his hair and stretching his shoulders. He did not speak at all but seemed to think he had accomplished something. Gilbert quickly transferred his gaze to the book, expecting to see no change.

To his complete amazement he realized that Mr Strange had somehow switched the places of the book and its reflection, so that the former was inside the mirror and the latter on the table in the room.

Gilbert was so taken aback that for a moment he could only stare at the reflection, now in the same space as he himself. Dimly he was aware that Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles had leaned forward and were looking dubiously at the book. He felt a surge of joy sweep through him, and he turned to Mr Strange in sheer delight. He was dimly aware that his headache had wholly disappeared.

“But that is remarkable! That is truly … My dear Mr Strange! I never even heard of such magic before. It is not listed in Sutton-Grove. I assure you, my dear sir, it is not in Sutton-Grove!”

He stared at Mr Strange, whose face broke out in a relieved grin. The two gazed at each other in utter joy.

Gilbert was baffled. All his life he had feared that one day he would discover a rival, another second, genuine practical magician. And yet here was one standing before him, and he felt elated. He wanted to sit Mr Strange down and talk for hours with him about magic. But d—n, Lord Mulgrave was due soon, and he could hardly have such a conversation with Mr Strange while Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles were present. He would have to—

But the two were puzzling over whether the book had changed at all as a result of Mr Strange’s spell. Was it longer? A different colour? 

Gilbert laughed at their inability to see the obvious. He was so exhilarated that he teazed Mr Lascelles, bidding him to pick up “the book.” Which he could not do, of course.

So Gilbert explained, “He has made the book and its reflection change places. The real book is over there, in the mirror.”

He sighed with pleasure and moved over to examine the reflection more closely. Mr Strange confessed that he did not know how to get back the book. He turned to Gilbert and said, “I dare say it is just the same with you, sir, one has a sensation like music playing at the back of one’s head—one simply knows what the next note will be.”

Gilbert had never once done magic in such a fashion. His magic was all dependent upon long research and the careful composition of spells that he could replicate exactly if they were successful. Still, Mr Strange’s method, seemingly more intuitive than his own, had worked, and worked marvelously.

“Quite remarkable,” he replied, his eyes fixed admiringly on the other Magician—as he now thought of Mr Strange. 

Gilbert was extremely reluctant to have Mr Strange leave, but there was Lord Mulgrave coming any minute, and he really needed to be alone with his young colleague in order to be able to talk without constraint. He personally escorted Mr Strange to the door and invited him to return the next morning. To his delight, Mr Strange seemed as pleased at the outcome of their second meeting as he was, and the two smiled at each other for a moment before Mr Strange departed, assuring Mr Norrell that he could be back promptly at nine the next morning.

Gilbert walked back into the library and found Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles conferring in low tones, though they left off when he appeared. He wandered around the room, pausing several times to gaze at the reflection on the table, overwhelmed by the momentous change in his life that had just occurred, until Lord Mulgrave was announced.

Later that day Childermass returned from his trip, and Gilbert told him about Mr Strange’s visit and his marvelous magic. He ended by remarking fretfully, “I only wish that he had not married. Magicians have no business marrying.”

Childermass’ response was a wry little smile, but he simply shrugged and unwrapped the package of books to show his master what he had purchased on his behalf.

Gilbert expressed pleasure over the new additions to the library, but he found it very difficult to concentrate on his work for the rest of that day. At one point he wandered over and for a time again stared with a little smile at the reflection sitting on the table before the mirror. Finally he pulled himself away and decided to make some notes on Mr Strange’s spell. Not that he understood how it had been accomplished, but he wanted to have some record of it, since Mr Strange seemed not to have made any.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Gilbert’s heart, which had so far had been dry and unchanging since his discovery of English magic at the age of twelve, had never contained any thing besides that mighty calling. Indeed, he had always assumed that it held insufficient room for additional persons or subjects. If such an assumption were true, that day his heart had grown considerably, for now Mr Strange was firmly ensconced in it. 

To be sure, it took him quite some time to realize that he loved Mr Strange. At first he thought that this marvelous new emotion was simply friendship—for he had never had a real friend before and did not know the difference between that and romantic love. 

Over the next few months, however, it began to dawn on him that his inability to think about any thing apart from magic and Mr Strange and to wish for Mr Strange to remain in his company for as long as possible each day might imply something beyond friendship.

He found himself glancing furtively at Mr Strange’s lips and wishing that he could feel them against his own. He considered the absurd idea of Mr Strange possibly reaching out and resting a hand gently upon one of his own. When the two were seated beside each other on the sopha having tea of an afternoon, he sometimes felt almost dizzy at the idea that he might slide over until his body rested against Mr Strange’s and that Mr Strange might put an arm around him and that the two might sit quietly embracing for a considerable stretch of time. He had occasionally thought in passing about doing such things with other men that he found attractive, but never with any thing close to the persistence and intensity that plagued him now. He certainly had never acted upon such thoughts.

Gilbert had long since been in the habit of experiencing arousal when he lay at bed at night, to the point where he could not ignore it and had to touch himself in ways that satisfied his desires. During such activities he had been accustomed since he was an adolescent to think about images of nearly nude men in the historical and Biblical paintings that adorned Hurtfew Abbey. More lately, however, he had taken to thinking of Mr Strange instead, imagining as he pleasured himself the tall, muscular physique that lay hidden beneath the man’s clothes. 

He could not but conclude that his increasingly explicit fancies about Mr Strange, along with his jealousy of Mrs Strange and above all his wish that Mr Strange would come and live in his house, were signs of the so-far-elusive sentiment, love.

That conclusion saddened him, for he had fallen in love with a married man. Not only a married man, but one considerably younger than himself. And not only a younger, married man, but one far more attractive and congenial than he himself was—and presumably one not at all interested in intimate relations with another man.

Still, he realized that he was much happier with Mr Strange as his pupil than he had been before that momentous change in his life. He tried to accept that friendship without requited love was far better than neither friendship nor love.

It was certainly the case that over the next few years he was immensely happy in some ways, for he was able to spend a great deal of time in Mr Strange’s enchanting presence—more so than his wife probably spent with him, especially in terms of waking hours, Gilbert thought, which gave him some satisfaction. In other ways, it made him miserable, for he longed for so much closer contact. He also longed to be rid of Mrs Strange, though he certainly wished her no harm. No, if she could simply come to understand that Mr Strange was now wholly devoted to magic and that he should spend all his time with Gilbert, she would perhaps grow tired of her husband and leave him. Then Mr Strange could move into the house at Hanover-square and share everything with him. He knew that this was an idle notion, and yet he could not stop himself from thinking about such a possibility.

After the war, however, Gilbert’s love for Mr Strange became a source of misery, for Mr Strange soon parted ways with him and perversely pursued the dangerous path of exploring Fairy magic. They became enemies for a couple of years, and Gilbert was convinced that their conflict could never be resolved. He did things he came very much to regret later on—destroying Mr Strange’s book and publishing the letters he had written to various friends during his period of madness in Venice. 

It was only after Mr Strange became imprisoned in a Dark Tower by a Fairy and returned to England that the two were reunited and, to the joy of both, discovered that instead of being divided by hatred they were united not only by great friendship and collegiality but also by passionate, devoted love. But that part of the story is told in _Jonathan Strange ♥ Mr Norrell._


End file.
